


Haunted

by Mischieftess



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Light Reading, Morse Code, Mystery, haunting?, slow burn?, supernatural shit is going down
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-23
Packaged: 2021-03-24 03:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30066021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mischieftess/pseuds/Mischieftess
Summary: Waverly Earp is starting her new life in Calgary, but something isn't quite right with her new condo. The lights just won't stop flickering.
Comments: 52
Kudos: 159





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi y'all, this is from a Twitter fic series I started in the fall. Hope you enjoy!

Waverly moves into a new condo. It's really nice, the previous owner painted the walls a fresh, light green and it feels so airy, a nice change from her previous apartment. But the lights keep flickering, and there's sometimes a draft down the back of her neck even when the air conditioner is off.

She had an electrician come look at it, but of course the second he arrived there wasn’t a flicker to be found. He left, muttering under his breath, and Waverly threw up her hands and curled up in bed with a book light. At least that didn’t make her eyes ache.

One day, Waverly comes home after a long day in the office. While she's trying to make herself dinner, the light over the oven starts flickering. 

"Can't you just leave it for one hour?" she demands, propping her hands on her hips, absolutely finished with this damn faulty wiring.

To her surprise, the flickering stops with the light off.

A stupid idea occurs to her. "If you can hear me, flash the light twice?"

It flashes twice.

Waverly runs to the fuse box, but no one is there. The lights flicker around her, but no one is controlling them from inside her apartment.

"Maybe I'm going nuts, seeing things," she says.

The lights turn off, then every single lightbulb in the condo turns off, then on again.

"Once for no and twice for yes. Does 2+2 equal 4?" Waverly asks. She needs to get a handle on whatever the fuck is happening, and apparently kindergarten math is the first thing that comes to mind.

The lights flicker twice, ending up off.

"Shit. Um, ok. Are you in my condo?" Nothing happens.

Waverly hears sputtering and runs back into her kitchen, turning the flame down on her lentils. The early evening sunlight outside still lights her apartment enough to see, but she reaches up to turn the stove light back on anyway.

It turns on before she can get to it. "Thanks, um, I guess?" A shiver of cold brushes her neck.

In for a penny, in for a pound. "So, I guess, if I'm going insane by talking to you, I should ask if you're friendly?"

The kitchen overhead flickers twice.

"Are you human?" The light flickers twice. 

"Are you a ghost?" Nothing.

Waverly thinks for a second, then says, "If you don't know, maybe try 3 times?"

The lights flicker twice, then pause, then three times.

"Ok." 

The lentils are done, and Waverly uses the rubber spatula to ease them into a bowl. She takes it to her living room and sits down, placing it on the table. 

"I've never talked to a ghost before."

All of the lights flicker off once, then come back on.

"Sorry, sorry, not a ghost. But, um, would you mind just doing one light? It gives me a headache when all of them go off like that."

The lamp next to the couch dims, then flicks twice. 

"Thanks. Um, ok, this still seems crazy but you seem nice, I guess? Unless you're planning to hurt me?"

She sees an emphatic no from the lamp. Off, on.

"Well that's a relief. Do you know why you're here?"

[Don't know] 

"Oh, that's gotta be weird for you."

[Yes]

"Can you move things?"

There's a pause, and then [No].

"Ok. Um, do you know Morse code?"

[No] 

But then, there's three short flicks, three long flicks, and three short flicks.

Waverly claps her hands. "SOS! Oh, no, wait, are you in trouble right now?"

[No]

"Oh good. You know SOS, do you think if I gave you a printout you could use morse code to talk to me?"

[Yes]

"Gimme a sec!" Waverly hops up, lentils forgotten on the table, and heads for her office. As she goes, the lights turn on ahead of her, lighting her path. 

"Thank you, that’s helpful."

The desk lamp flickers [Yes] as she reaches it.

Fortunately, her computer wakes up in a few seconds and the printer is soon humming away. Waverly starts with two copies, then adds three more while mentally apologizing to the trees the paper was made from. 

She grabs the tape dispenser and then rushes back to the living room.

The lamp next to her couch, the one she was just communicating with (if that isnt a weird idea, gosh) is about 6 feet tall. 

"Where should I tape this?" She asks the lamp, then shakes her head. "Sorry, I mean, should I put it on the lamp shade?"

[Yes]

Waverly tapes it to the side. "Um, hey, don't leave this on with the paper here, ok? I'd rather it not catch fire."

The light turns off, then on for a firm [No] before turning off.

"Cool, cool, cool." 

If Waverly slows down and realizes that she's talking to her  _ lamp _ , she doesn't know what she'll do. So she forges forward.

"Yeah so, um, let's say light is signal and dark is space, ok?" Waverly reaches over to the lamp and demonstrates with SOS.

The second she takes her hand away, the... Ghost? No, the presence? The person, yeah, the person in her living room emulates her. 

[SOS]

"Ok, so you got the basics. Long and short tones. It's been a little while, but I have a printout so if you go slow I'll probably be able to follow you."

[O...k]

Waverly grins. "I was a little freaked out at first but this is kinda cool!"

A thought occurs to her. "You haven't been watching me sleep, have you?"

[E]

Waverly pauses for a second, waiting, and then realizes what happened. "Sorry, was that a no? It's E in Morse code, that other way of doing it was–"

The light starts flickering on and off, and Waverly scrambles to keep track.

"F...a...s...t...e...r. Yeah! It is much faster! Maybe if it's in answer to a yes/no question we should keep doing that?"

Two flicks. [Yes]

"Ok, well, what do you want to talk about?"

[E...A...T]

Waverly looks down at her bowl of lentils. She'd forgotten about them in her rush to get things set up. "You're hungry?"

[No]

"Oh! Yeah, I guess I should, thanks for the reminder. What's your name?"

There's a long pause while Waverly chews, and then three quick flashes. 

"S? Or you don't know?"

Three quick flashes again, then, very slowly, [WHAT THE FUCG]

"Hey," Waverly says, putting her food down. "I'm sorry, I don't know what's wrong, but I'll help you figure this out."

All of the lights flicker, then go off.

The sun has gone down at this point and Waverly is cast in darkness. 

"Hello?" She waits, but nothing happens.

Waverly turns the lamp back on. She calls out a few more times for her strange visitor, then slowly finishes her food. She has two lectures tomorrow, so she finishes preparing for them and then curls up in bed, still wondering what happened.

The lights don’t flicker again.

Eventually, Waverly falls asleep and dreams of kind, brown eyes set in a beautiful face, but she won’t remember them in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Waverly doesn't see any flickers over the next few days. At a certain point, she shakes herself and stops asking the empty room if someone's there.

That is, until the weekend.

* * *

  
  


Waverly throws her phone down on the couch cushion next to her and huffs. "You're such a bastard," she says to the empty air.

The light flickers. Waverly turns her head toward it, eyes wide. "Was that a 'no?'" she asks before she can think better of it.

[Yes]

"Oh, I wasn't talking about you." Waverly waves a hand, aiming for nonchalant. After all, nothing bad had happened the last time her visitor was here. "I mean, you did leave abruptly and I maybe thought I'd made up the whole thing, but that's not enough for me to call you a bastard."

Waverly decides to stop rolling her eyes at herself for talking out loud to a lamp and commit. If her visitor is back, at least it's someone else to listen. God knows Wynonna is tired of her bitching about Champ. 

“Can I vent to you for a minute?”

[Yes]

"Thank you. It's this boy I'm dating. I mean, this man. I mean, ugh! He's so obnoxious!"

[Boy man] 

The message is slow and stilted, but Waverly imagines she can interpret some skepticism.

"Yeah! Yeah, that’s accurate! He's just so immature! We had plans to have a nice dinner for our anniversary since I have today off, but he was supposed to pick me up an hour ago. I just checked his instagram and look!"

Waverly grabs her phone and pulls up insta. There Champ is in the driver's seat of his dumb old truck, shirtless and grinning, sporting damp beach hair. Whoever took the photo is in the passenger seat.

"That was posted ten minutes ago. TEN! I am so done with his cheating ass."

The light flickers. [Bastard]

"Right? Thank you! It's been like this for years, and I am officially done with him. I'm going to break up with him right now."

Waverly writes the text. She might imagine it, but one side of her face and her shoulder grow cool as she writes.

"There!" Waverly says, sending the text. "Six years in the trash. Whew."

Her phone buzzes. Waverly stares at it in horror, seeing Champ's stupid smiling face staring up at her from the screen. "Oh no, oh no, ohno what do I do? He's supposed to fucking ignore me and then start moping an hour later!"

Her phonescreen fuzzes, the pixels warping over the 'Reject call' button. It stops buzzing.

"Wait, what the fuck?" Waverly touches the phone – it feels normal. "Did you … just use the touch screen?"

The light flickers twice. [Yes]

"Are you used to cell phones?!"

[Yes]

Waverly sits back on the couch. She'd figured this incorporeal person who knew SOS in morse code was probably older than her, but maybe not.

"Are you a millenial?!"

[DN]

"Don't know?"

[Yes]

Then, slowly, [Sorry]

Waverly turns off the ringer on her phone. This is far, far more interesting than anything Champ the Cheater has to say. "It's ok. I wanted to hang up on him, I just froze up for a second. And it's ok that you don't know things. I don't know a lot."

[Name]

"Waverly. Sorry, I didn't introduce myself before." Waverly looks around. She's been speaking to the lamp as if it was her strange visitor, but she wonders now where they actually are. 

"Um, are you standing behind the lamp? How tall are you?"

[Yes] then a pause. [Five ten]

"Ooh, you're so much taller than me. Ok, hey, wanna see if you can use the touchscreen? It might be a bit faster."

That cold feeling drifts closer, until Waverly almost feels like it's sitting next to her on the couch. She puts an arm out and jerks it back. Her fingers are frigid!

[No]

"I'm sorry! I didn't think. Did I go through your chest or something?"

[Boob]

"OH! Oh! You have boobs! Um, wow, I am  _ so _ sorry, that had to be super weird to have some strange woman put her arm through your boob."

[No]

"Are you … messing with me?"

[Yes]

Waverly laughs. She doesn't know who this person is, where they came from, or why they're in her condo. But they made her smile right after she ended a 6-year relationship with an absolute asshole, and that's not nothing.

"Try again?" She gestures with the phone. "I won't touch your boob this time."

The coldness moves closer to her, and Waverly shivers as she opens a text app on her phone and pulls up the keyboard, placing it on the coffee table.

"So, um, can we start off with what's going on?"

The image on the screen warps, pixels scattering, then settles. The words on the screen are {font know.} Then it shifts again and the 'font' is changed to 'dont.'

"Hm. Are you alone, besides me I mean?"

{Yes}

"Why were you messing with the lights?"

There's a pause, then {I was frustrated. Sorry.}

Waverly cheers to herself. Sentences are good! "I'd be frustrated too if I couldn't touch anything or be heard. So you're human, invisible, incorporeal, and I can't hear you. But you can mess with electronics. Are you sure you're not a ghost?"

Waverly looks down and realizes her visitor has been typing while she talked. The screen is still fuzzed out and she just sits and waits.

{I don't remember anything except being here a little while ago. I know stuff, but I don't know how I know it. I don't feel dead, but since I don't remember anything, I dunno!}

"A little while ago? You mean on Tuesday, when I put up the morse code sheet? That was four days ago!"

The next message makes no sense. {Can you turn that off? It's so}

All the lights flicker, and then they all end up on. Waverly doesn’t feel the coldness next to her anymore.

"Hello? Um, hi?"

There's no answer. 

"Fudge."

Waverly's phone vibrates. It's Champ. She silences it and turns on the TV. Might as well watch something mindless and order some dinner – she’s had enough weirdness for one night.


	3. Chapter 3

Waverly spends her Sunday watching ghost shows and reading way too many blogs about ghost visitations. By the afternoon, she's sure that no other ghost has ever been recorded to communicate both by electrically-enabled morse code and by typing on a smartphone. 

She charges her ipad and puts it out on the coffee table, just in case.

Wynonna calls that evening while Waverly is cooking. 

"Hey baby girl, how's it going?"

"Hey 'Nonna. Oh, you know, work work work. I dumped Champ yesterday." 

Waverly has to pull the phone away from her ear at Wynonna's howl of victory.

"Shit, Waves, I thought it'd never happen! Good for you. What prompted that?"

"I just realized I was more interested in the ghost haunting my new condo than whatever his explanation would be for being at the beach on our anniversary."

There's an obvious pause on the line. Waverly stirs her tomato sauce. It's about time for her to get the pasta boiling. 

Wynonna says, "That's ... good?"

"Yep! I'm not sure if they're a ghost, but they've talked to me twice now! Of course, not audibly, they use the lights."

Waverly cranks up the heat under the water heating on the back burner and turns down her sauce. Now she's just got to wait for the water to boil, pop the pasta in, and drain it in a few minutes. The smell of garlic and rich herbed tomato wafts around her kitchen. Heavenly.

Wynonna's voice is slow, measured. "They use the lights? Um, tell me more about this, Waves. What is the ghost, um, talking about?"

Waverly rolls her eyes. She recognizes this tone. Yes, she's always had a penchant for magical thinking, but this is real. She knows it's real.

Waverly dumps the pasta into the now-boiling water. "Well, I don't know much. We had to use morse code for a little while, and they keep disappearing on me. Well, I've never actually seen them, but they stop responding and all the lights flicker. So yeah, disappearing. Whatever."

"But anyway," Waverly says. "They're 5'10", have boobs, think they're human, don't think they're a ghost, don't watch me while I'm sleeping, and hung up on Champ for me. Called him a bastard, too! I like their priorities."

"So... The ghost isn't telling you they're god, or you're god, or to hurt yourself, right?" Wynonna's voice has changed from skeptical to dead serious.

Waverly swallows the initial urge to be snarky. Wynonna doesn't talk about her time as an inpatient after Daddy died, but sometimes she gets like this when she's asking if someone is doing ok. She deserves a serious response.

"No, Wynonna. I'm not hallucinating. The lights were responding to my questions, I put up a sheet of paper with morse code on it and the lights began using morse code. Then I let the ghost-person use my phone keyboard. I realize this all sounds–"

"Crazy. It all sounds crazy, Waves! You shouldn't tell anyone else about this."

Waverly feels irritation swell up behind her sternum and into her voice. "Wynonna, I hadn't planned on it. But this is actually happening and I'm not going to pretend to you it isn't!"

"Ok, ok," Wynonna says. "I accept that. I just want you to be safe, you know? This doesn't feel safe."

Waverly sighs, trying to consciously release her anger. Her timer goes off. "Yeah. Hold on, I gotta strain the pasta. I'm gonna put you on speaker."

Waverly grabs the pot with its wobbly handle, swearing to herself that she'll replace it soon, and carries it toward the sink and the colander waiting for it.

Over the edge of the counter, as she goes to tip it into the strainer, the handle snaps off.

Waverly watches in frozen horror as the pot full of boiling water hits the edge of the counter and flips, sending scalding fluid straight at her. She shrieks and tries to shield herself, but there's no way she can dodge it.

Ice fills her veins in a snap that steals her breath, and then just as suddenly it's gone and she's standing across the room from the spilled pasta and the steaming puddle on the floor. Shakily, Waverly touches her face, her stomach. Dry. Unscalded. Safe.

Wynonna's voice is yelling out of her phone speaker. "Waves? Waverly?! Are you ok? What happened?!"

Waverly shakes herself. She stares at the spot where she just stood, and where she is now. She eyes the traitorous pot, now upended on her new floor.

"I'm calling an ambulance!"

"Wait, no, Wynonna!" Waverly rushes to her phone and picks it up. She hurriedly turns off the burner with her free hand. "I just dropped the pasta, I'm ok. I'm ok. Sorry for scaring you."

"Shit, baby girl, I thought you'd fallen and hit your head. Did you burn yourself? It can take a second to start hurting, are you sure you're ok?"

"Yeah, um, it missed me somehow!" Waverly looks at the mess. "But now I really need to clean this up. Can I call you back later?"

After a few more platitudes, Waverly hangs up on Wynonna and then just stands there clutching her phone for a minute. 

"What just happened?" she asks the empty air.

Nothing answers.


	4. Chapter 4

Nothing weird happens for another few days. Waverly has her hands full with her new position and has put thoughts of her ghost out of her mind for the time being, though she can't help but link the Pasta Incident to the strange, comfortable, frigid presence of her ghost.

Wynonna hadn't brought up the ghost again, and Waverly has promised herself not to mention it. She doesn't need to worry her, not now that they're more than an hour's drive away from each other. Most of her PhD research had been done in Purgatory, so this was the farthest she’s ever lived from home.

Waverly's just gotten home on Wednesday evening when there's a knock on her door. She checks SuperEats, but the app says that her food is still at the restaurant.

With a thoughtful frown on her face, she goes to the door and looks through the peephole.

Champ is out there, looking like he actually made an effort this time. Waverly sighs and rests her forehead on the door. He can't be here for his stuff – after all, he'd never spent the night. He’d never even left a toothbrush here. Furthermore, Waverly had cleared any of her stuff out of his place in Purgatory when she moved. Maybe she'd known they were doomed.

Waverly steels herself and opens the door, wedging herself into the crack. "What do you want?" she asks, keeping her face hard.

Champ pouts at her. Actually pouts, lip poking out and everything. It’s a childish expression, and Waverly wonders how she’d ever thought he was cute. 

"Aw, baby, don't be mad. Look," he produces a bouquet of daisies, "I brought you some flowers."

"Champ, you're four days too late to make anything up to me."

"C'mon, let's talk about this. We've been together forever, you don't want to just throw that all away."

'Yet another instance of Champ telling you what to do,' a voice that sounds like Wynonna says in her head.

"Champ, you are rude, disrespectful, always late, and have cheated on me for the last time. I'm done!"

Waverly closes the door, her point made, but Champ jams his foot into the crack.

"Who's going to date you if not for me, huh?" he snarls, his facade of friendliness dropping. "You're pretty, but you're too smart for anyone else, I've put up with you getting your little degrees but– OW"

Waverly slams the door and locks it, hefting the golf club she keeps behind it with a grim smile. No more of his BS. She doesn't know why she didn't see it before now.

Something slams into the door and Champ yells, "You open this door, you little bitch, or I'll–"

"Hey!" another voice calls from outside the door. Lighter, more feminine than Champ's, but filled with strength. "Who let you in here? I'm calling security."

Waverly hears running footsteps, and the door to the stairwell bangs. Champ is a coward.

After the sounds of Champ’s flight fade away, someone taps on Waverly's door. "Hey," the voice says. "I'm going to file a report. His face will be on the security footage. He won't get in again unless he lives here?"

Waverly can feel her face turning red, shame at the witnessed altercation getting to her despite her determination not to let it. She sighs. 

"Um, thank you," she says through the door. "No, he doesn't live here. Um, do I have to say something?"

"Nah," the voice says, reassurance in every syllable. "I'll just say he was drunk and causing a ruckus, they're really good here about keeping non-residents out. You don't have to do a thing if you don't want to. Are you ok?"

"Uh, yeah. I will be. Um. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Um, anyway, I'm gonna go back home and call security. I'm in #27 if you ever need backup, ok? But no pressure."

"Yeah." Waverly rests her head against the door, feeling the tears start up. "Thanks."

Waverly answers the door for SuperEats with her golf club in hand, and she eats while staring mindlessly at the tv screen.

At around 10 pm, the light beside her flickers. She looks up, startled from her post-horribleness stupor. "Oh hey," she says, and bursts into tears.

The light flickers and a cold sensation wafts across her face. Waverly wipes her tears away, trying to keep track of the morse code.

[Sorry]

"No, it's nothing you did, I just had an awful day. Let's talk about something else, like what's going on with you?"

[Ok]

Waverly unlocks her ipad and puts it on a note app. "There, this way you should be able to type to me."

The coldness of the presence next to her is somehow comforting. Waverly shrugs internally at her own responses. She should be freaked out, but she isn't.

"Ok, well, do you know anything about yourself?"

The iPad screen scrambles for a few seconds, then clears to reveal, {Shoe size 10}

"Women's or men's?"

{Women's}

“Pronouns?”

{She/her}

"What about what you look like?"

A pause, then, {I'm see-through right now and can't remember}

"See-through? Oh, that reminds me!" Waverly fumbles with her phone, turning on the camera app. "Ghost-hunters use cameras to try to see ghosts! Let's see if it works on you."

There is, indeed, a translucent, blurry white cloud sitting next to her on the couch. Waverly snaps the photo, excited to share it with her companion... But nothing is on the freezeframe. "Damn."

{No dice?} 

"It can see you on the screen, but when I take a photo nothing is there. Here," Waverly flips the camera to front-facing and holds it out, pointing toward her guest. "See yourself?"

The iPad's image jumps and warps, clearing to reveal, {Ok that's weird. But no photo?}

"Yeah. I don't know why!" Waverly runs her hand through her hair. "Well, hey, if this is frustrating for me, it must be for you as well. How are you doing?"

{Okay I guess. It's all weird, you know? Like, I'll think you were in the kitchen but then you're on the couch crying.}

"The kitchen? Oh! Did you see me drop the pasta?"

{Yeah I tried to push you out of the way but then you were in here on the couch. But you're not burned, so I must have imagined it.}

"Um, no, you didn't. You...did get me out of the way, I think." Waverly shares the story, then says, "But that was on Sunday. This is Wednesday."

{Whoa. Well, I'm glad I could help. Saving people is what I do.}

Waverly sits up. "Really? Do you remember what you do?"

{I don't know why I said that, it just seemed right? But wait, so where do I go when I'm not here?! Do I stop existing?}

Waverly spreads her hands. "I have no idea! That's what we've gotta figure out."

The iPad clears to reveal: {Ok, I'm game, let's} 

The lights flicker.

Waverly freezes for a second, then whips out her phone. She scans the room over the camera. "Hello?" Nothing in the camera view, and no one responds. "Dammit all to hell."


	5. Chapter 5

Waverly's carrying her groceries up to the front of her building the next morning, shifting one of the bulging bags onto her elbow to get her keys out, when an ambulance pulls up.

"Thanks for the lift!" A tall woman jumps out of the passenger seat, throwing a bag over her shoulder.

She's tall and well-built, clad in a black, short-sleeved uniform shirt with patches on both deltoids and black cargo pants tucked into black boots. A radio hangs off her black belt. As Waverly watches, she scuffs a hand through her short, wavy red hair, rumpling it so it stands up in various messy peaks. 

She calls, "See ya tonight!"

Then the woman with PARAMEDIC emblazoned across her shoulders turns and jogs for the same door Waverly has been standing at for the last minute. 

"Oh, hey there." The woman's voice is immediately familiar, and Waverly blushes as she realizes that this is her savior from earlier in the week.

"Uh," Waverly stammers. "Hi."

The woman pulls out her keys. "Allow me."

Waverly allows – she can't help it. The woman's forearm muscles ripple as she turns the key, hauls the door open, and waves Waverly through. 

Waverly walks into the building's entryway, shaking her head at herself. _What’s wrong with me?_

The woman catches up with her at the elevators. "A little early for grocery shopping, isn't it?" she asks, her tone light. She looks for a second like she's considering offering to help carry but doesn't.

Waverly says, "Oh, I'm having company tonight, so," she shifts the heavy bags sheepishly. "Early bird cooks the tofu?"

The other woman eyes her arms for perhaps a moment longer than the move entails, but then her warm brown eyes smile back at Waverly’s.

"Oh, nice! I don't cook much, been busy lately, but I miss it." The elevator dings and they step on.

"Which floor?" The stranger asks.

Waverly, accepting her inevitable discovery, says, "Seven."

"Oh, that's me too." 

"Have you lived here long? I'm new."

"Just a couple of years. The management is really on the ball, and the workout facilities are kept up well."

"Oh, nice." Waverly hasn’t checked out the workout facilities, but her companion _clearly_ spends a lot of time there. 

When they turn the same way out of the elevator, it's strangely congenial. Waverly finds her awkwardness fading. Even when she stops at her door and the stranger, surprised, stops and meets her eyes with comprehension dawning, Waverly finds courage in that gentle brown gaze.

"Um, thank you for earlier," she says, meaning the act of getting the door as well as the rescue the other night.

"Ah, you're welcome," the stranger says, a smile starting up in her eyes. "I'm Nicole."

"I'm Waverly."

"Nice to meetcha. Have fun with your cooking."

"Thanks."

Waverly watches Nicole head down the hall to #27. From the back, it’s clear she spends a great deal of time at the gym. Woof.

Waverly shakes her head at herself. _What am I doing?_ And opens her door.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Waverly’s visitor shows up that afternoon when she has three pots going and something in the oven. "Oh, hey," Waverly says at the first flicker, distracted, as she adds the garlic to the onion already simmering, translucent and aromatic, in the pan.

The light flicks on and off a few times, but Waverly can't figure out what it means.

"Sorry, I didn't get that," she says. 

The light flicks once. [No]

"Hm? Waverly turns down the heat and then looks over at the one flickering bulb in the ceiling. "Can't you– oh, I'm so sorry, gimme a sec."

She runs into the living room and grabs one of the morse code sheets and the tape. She tacks it up on the wall under the light that her visitor chose in the kitchen. "Better?"

[Yes] blinks the light.

"Hey, so you're back. Sorry, I'd get the ipad for you but I've kinda got my hands full. Do you remember what happened between Wednesday and today?"

[No what day]

"It's Saturday, about 3pm."

[DN]

"Yeah. Well, I got through the week and am now making dinner for my sister, who'll be here in an hour. Maybe you can meet her!"

[Name]

"She's Wynonna, the one I was talking to when you pushed me out of the way of the pasta. She, uh, thinks I'm crazy for talking to you."

[RU]

Waverly shrugs, adding the ginger to the vegetables. "I can only trust that I'm actually seeing this light blink in morse code, and am not just making it up. Maybe you'll be here to show her! But hey, how are you feeling today?"

[Same]

"Huh. Any more thoughts about your life? Do you like cats or dogs?"

The answer is immediate. [Cat]

"See! Maybe that's what we should be doing, 20 questions. Favorite color?"

[Blue] then [U]

"Green! Hm," Waverly adds the spices to the pot and stirs, smelling them start to release their flavor. "What's your favorite season?"

[Fall]

"I like summer. Do you use twitter?"

[Insta]

Waverly laughs. "You are a millenial, I knew it!"

The carrots are added and so is the vegetable broth. Waverly puts the lid on and sets them to simmer and steps back, wiping her hands on her apron. She looks at the spot under the lamp. "What's your eye color?"

[DN sorry]

"Oh, it's fine, I was just hoping all the questions would jog your memory. You know how tall you are, and what shoe size. Hm. Favorite shoe?"

[Doc Marten]

"Boots?"

[Yes]

"Interesting choice. I like all kinds, I have way too many."

Waverly's timer dings and she pulls the naan out of the oven, setting the pan on a cooling rack on the counter.

[Looks good] 

"Oh, you like indian food?"

[Yes]

"What's your favorite?"

[Saag]

"Oh, yeah, that's a good one. Tonight I'm making chickpea rogan josh."

[Smart]

"Why is it smart?" Waverly takes the lid off the rice, sniffing the cardamon-scented steam. Done.

This answer takes a little longer to get out. 

[U smart morse by heart]

"Oh, yeah, I was bored, researching the spread of telegraph to the West, and just picked it up."

[Damn smart]

Waverly finds herself smiling. At a compliment from, if not a ghost, an incorporeal entity. _Stop that_ , she cautions herself, _that way lies madness._

Still, it would be rude not to accept the compliment. "Thank you."

There's a loud knock on the door. "Baby girl, I've got your cilantro!" Wynonna calls from the hallway. 

Waverly huffs. She's gonna announce it to the entire floor at this point. "Hey, just a sec," she calls, and then turns to her silent friend.

"Hey, you don't have to talk to Wynonna if you don't want to, but it might help. What do you think?"

There's no flicker. Waverly sighs and runs for the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Wynonna makes big eyes at the Morse cheat sheets posted up on Waverly's lamp and in the kitchen, but she doesn't bring up the ghost. Instead, of course, she asks about Champ.

"Oh, he showed up here on Wednesday and said some stuff," Waverly said, waving her empty fork.

Wynonna's eyes narrow. "What kind of stuff?" 

"Oh, you know, I'm too smart to find another man who'll put up with me, that kind of stuff. But he was pounding on the door and, well, someone from down the hall called security and he ran scared."

Waverly had mostly been angry, afterward, not sad, but it had sparked tears regardless. She hates that about herself, that she cries when angry, but it's something she's never been able to completely stop. 

"I'm gonna kill him." Wynonna says.

"Wynonna," Waverly says, "I need moral support, not vengeance. Besides, I smacked him with a golf club."

"Oh. Well, good job. And there are plenty of dudes out there who appreciate a good head on a woman's shoulders!" Wynonna punctuates that with a big bite of curry.

Waverly is thinking about brown eyes and red hair when she asks, "What about chicks?"

"Uh, yeah, yes. I think that chicks also appreciate smart women," Wynonna says, head cocking as she examines Waverly. "Do you have anyone in mind?"

Waverly tries to laugh off that perceptive stare. "I just got out of a 6-year relationship with an asshole, I should take at least a month off to figure things out before I go looking."

Wynonna snorts and kicks back in her chair. "You've been functionally single for months."

"Ok, ok, so he was a terrible boyfriend," Waverly says. "You were right."

"Ah, I love to hear it, say it again?"

"No. But I'm moving on, single from now on!"

"But with a new, shiny obsession?" Wynonna points at the morse cheat sheet still taped to the lamp.

Waverly sighs. "Yeah, I guess. But it's not interfering with my work, and I've been watching some really interesting shows about ghosts!"

Wynonna taps her fingers on the table. "I … might know someone who can help with this spirit stuff. She's a bit of a fortune teller."

"Oh. So you believe me?"

"I'd rather believe you than the alternative?"

"Fair. So, what's her name?"

"Well, first things first, she doesn't like me much."

"What, is she another one of Henry's exes?"

At Wynonna's silence, Waverly slaps the table. "That man gets _around_.”

"She'shisexwife," Wynonna mumbles and damn, that's news. 

_What does Wynonna see in this man?_ Waverly wonders, not for the first time. Yeah, Henry's been around for a while, and yeah she likes him for his weirdly gentlemanly ways, but he's an absolute tomcat.

"Wowwww," Waverly says, sipping her water. "You’re one to talk about my taste in men. Ok, so his ex- _wife_ , she's a fortune teller?"

"She reads tarot and thinks ghosts and stuff are real. Her name's Kate." Wynonna offers a business card and Waverly takes it. 

"Aww, you were thinking of me. Ok. Maybe I'll ask her to help out. My visitor never remembers anything useful."

"You do you, baby girl, but if that light-diddler gets mean, you tell me about it ok?"

"I will, Wynonna. But I don't think you have to worry."

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Waverly almost sends an email to Kate that night, but she decides to wait. After all, it might be rude not to ask her visitor about whether they were ok with inviting an unrelated bystander into this thing they had going. Whatever it is that they have going. Anyway.

Sunday passes uneventfully, with Waverly making lesson plans for the week. She does run into the redhead - Nicole - once, when she ventures out early to see what the fitness center looks like. Nicole is in the squat rack, squatting a truly impressive load of plates.

Waverly catches herself staring and hurriedly finds the treadmills on the other side of the center, dropping her earbuds into her ears and falling into that rhythm that always helps quiet and focus the constant tumbling of ideas. By the time she's done, Nicole is gone.

Waverly tries not to think too hard about her response to Nicole. She's always known she, as Wynonna puts it, appreciates the beauty of women, but she's never acted on it. She wouldn't know where to start. And someone like Nicole, well, she probably is both straight and taken.

So it's not worth pondering. And besides, she _just_ got out of a relationship! 

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

"Ugh," Waverly says, dropping her forehead onto her desk. It's Monday and she doesn't really have much work to do for tomorrow. Her research is on hold until she finds out about her grant proposal.

She's sorely tempted to take a break. Waverly stretches and contemplates a snack. Or ... There's always the sex toy she'd bought two months ago and never felt empowered to open because of her dumb, smothering boyfriend.

Waverly pushes back from her desk and stalks to her bedroom, kneeling to rummage beneath the bed skirt. "Aha!" The sleek packaging is the same as she left it, pristine, untouched.

With a speed not entirely due to her awkward feelings about the whole thing, Waverly opens it and reads the instructions. Then she plugs it in. And has to wait.

"Right," she tells herself, feeling it best to speak firmly to herself out loud. "A watched pot never boils."

A light in the hall flickers. In a flash, Waverly sees all the sex toy stuff spread all over her bed and panics.

"Uh, hey! Um, just heading into the living room now, wanna join me?" She says to the empty air, walking with hopefully non-exaggerated steps into the hallway.

She brushes by a cold patch on the way and shivers. Then, steadfast, she doesn't check to see if her visitor is ogling the evidence of her afternoon plans. Instead, Waverly pours herself a glass of water and unlocks the iPad.

"What's up? It's Monday, by the way.”

{Oh. I missed the sister?} 

"Yeah, right as she got here. Did you leave on purpose?"

{No, I can't control it. One moment I'm here, the next you've changed clothes and are somewhere else. Sorry it's so intrusive, by the way}

Waverly shrugs. "It's weird, but I don't dislike it."

{Ok. Thanks. I think I remember something.}

Waverly sits forward. "Yeah?" She can't help but be excited, this could be huge.

{I wore glasses as a kid, but not now}

Waverly puzzles over that. "You got lasik or something?"

{Yeah! Weird, I know, but it's something!}

"It is!" Waverly decides to ask early so she doesn't miss her chance. "Hey, so, I got a lead on a ... spiritually-connected person who might be able to help us figure things out. Are you interested?"

{I'm an atheist, oh hey didn't know that, but this is all so weird, so why not?}

Waverly pulls up one knee and clasps her hands over it. "Great, ok, I'll send her an email. She's my sister's on-again, off-again boyfriend's ex-wife so it miiiiight be a little awkward."

{Wow, that sounds like a fun relationship to unpack, lol. I don't have any siblings.}

"That's new! What about parents?"

{Mmmmm nope, it's gone. Sorry.}

"You don't have to apologize! I just want to help you figure out why you're an incorporeal light-diddler instead of living your best life right now."

{Light-diddler?}

"Like it? Wynonna called you that."

{She's funny! Maybe next time she's}

The lights flicker. Waverly knows what it means by now but she still checks. "Hey, hello? You still here?"

When there's no response, she saves the note and marks the time. "Still around 10 minutes. Hm."

  
  


Waverly doesn't get a chance to use that new toy that night. Instead, she lies back in bed and considers what might have brought a single child, atheist, 5'10" person with size 10 feet who'd had lasik, used instagram, and liked the color blue and the fall to her condo.

She draws a blank, and then she falls asleep.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Kate answers her email quickly.

Hello Waverly,

Henry told me you might touch base. I'd be happy to help. Would you be willing to help me in return? I need assistance with some historical research and I hear you're quite the scholar. Let's plan for coffee? Here's my #. 

Kate


	7. Chapter 7

Kate is a fashionable woman in her early 30's who carries herself with the confidence of a queen. Waverly is immediately entranced with the sort of awe familiar to anyone who sorta wants the kind of aura for themselves.

Kate is gracious, too, and listens to Waverly's explanation without raising an eyebrow, simply sipping her coffee and hmmming at the right spots.

"Well, that certainly sounds interesting," she says when Waverly is finished. "Normally a ghost consult is people telling me that objects are knocked off shelves, hazy figures are appearing in their periphery, and sounds are happening in unoccupied parts of the house. Also, most of them are asking me to make it stop."

"Yeah, I don't want it to stop," Waverly says. "But it's strange and it distresses my, um, visitor that she can't remember her name or much at all about herself. Just these pieces," she gestures to the iPad she'd handed to Kate, "and the things she told me in Morse code."

"Well, darling, I'm happy to help," Kate says. "I know you said your visitor is inconsistent with her arrivals, but is there any time that's been repeated?"

"No, but she’s shown up both weekends in the late afternoon. We could try Saturday? I could tell her ahead of time." Waverly hesitates. “She’s never been able to control her appearances, but maybe it would work?”

"Interesting! You'll have to tell me more when I come to visit. In the meantime, would you be willing to work on something for me? I've got an interest in genealogy and am looking for a possible ancestor of mine, but I've hit a dead end."

Waverly's intrigued by Kate's link to the old Purgatorians and happily agrees. It'll help keep her mind off things, anyway.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Of course, on her way back from her evening coffee with Kate, Waverly runs into Nicole. Literally.

The paramedic is jogging around the corner from the elevators just as Waverly walks up and bowls Waverly over – or would have, had she not grabbed Waverly and stabilized her after impact.

Waverly ends up pressed against Nicole, held in very strong, very warm arms. Nicole smells  _ great _ , spicy and earthy. Waverly dies a little.

"Oh, gosh, I am so sorry!" 

The voice rumbles through Waverly's ear from the chest smooshed against her face, and then she is held out by the shoulders, looking up in shock.

Nicole's uniform shirt is crisp and new, tucked into cargo pants held up by a broad, black belt.

Waverly catches the definition in Nicole's arms, but her attention is fixed on the concerned brown eyes searching her face, short red hair artfully touseled.

"It's ok!" Waverly chirps, hearing her voice crack. "Didn't see you there."

Nicole releases her. Waverly feels like she can breathe.

Nicole shakes her head. "I shouldn't have been running, it's my fault, I am so sorry."

A vehicle beeps outside, and Nicole's attention snaps to it. "Um, I'm so sorry, again, running late."

"Go on," Waverly says. "I'm fine."

"Yes, you are. Um." Something flashes across Nicole's face. Panic, perhaps? "I mean, um, sorry, bye!"

Waverly watches Nicole trot toward the door, frozen in a moment of wtf, which means that when Nicole opens the door, her quick glance back catches Waverly staring. 

Nicole pauses for another moment, mouth curving into what looks like a smile, and then the honk comes again.

Nicole's attention is caught, and Waverly uses that moment to slink like a coward around the corner and out of sight.

She gets into the elevator and leans against the wall, trying to catch her breath. "What was that?" she asks the empty elevator.

oooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOoooOOOooo

Thursday morning rolls around and there's no sight of Waverly's visitor. She puts up a printed sheet of paper, "Saturday afternoon" in case her visitor shows up when Waverly's not there. 

That's actually a question Waverly has – does her visitor only visit when Waverly is home?

She doesn't know if that would change things with Kate or not, of course. Dammit, Waverly is a historian, not a paranormal expert!

Regardless, she's relieved when the lights flicker on Thursday evening. "Oh hey, you're back!" She unlocks the iPad as the lights flicker a [Yes].

"So, today is Thursday. Kate agreed to come on Saturday and try to see if she can help. I know you can't control when you show up, but maybe you could try for Saturday?"

{Yeah. It's frustrating just popping in and out like this.}

"I can't imagine. Any more memories pop up?"

{Let's try 20 questions?}

"Hm, ok. Where did you grow up?"

{Toronto}

"I grew up in Purgatory. It’s a little town near Calgary, which is where we are right now.”

{I’ve been to Calgary, I think … no it’s gone, sorry.}

“That’s ok. Next question, are you married?"

{Yes. No? Divorced, I think.}

Waverly sits forward. "That's news!"

{Yeah! It feels like it was rushed.}

“The divorce or the marriage?”

{Both!}

"Huh. Well, let's add that to the mystery pile. I'm single, you saw me break up with him."

{Yeah. That sucks. 6 years?}

Waverly sighs. "It was a long time coming. I think it was just safe, you know? But I deserve better!"

{You do! You're very nice.}

"Thank you, it's all in the smile and wave. But this is about you! Beach or mountains?"

{Mountains. I like to climb. Oh! I've been climbing since I was in college! But I remember falling. Hospital. Is that how I died?!}

Waverly's heart gives a pang. She doesn't want her visitor to be dead. But she also doesn't want to give them false hope. "I don't know. I hope not. I mean, you don't think you're a ghost, right?"

{I don't know anymore! I don't feel dead, but I also don't know what being dead would feel like.}

"Let's try to focus on figuring out who you are. What about that climbing accident? You said you were taken to the hospital. How?"

{Helicopter.}

Purgatory is a rural area and has its own share of tourists getting stuck in the wilderness. Research is something Waverly can do. "Wilderness rescue has to keep good records, do you know where you were when it happened?"

{Red rock canyon. Yeah! Red rock canyon}

Waverly does some quick googling on her phone. "In oklahoma or nevada?"

{Nevada. Damn, I'm nervous. How can I be nervous without a body?}

"How would you have ended up in my Calgary condo if you died in Nevada?"

{Good question!}

Waverly says, "This is all good information, let's keep-"

The lights flicker. "Hello? Damn."

Waverly tosses her phone on the coffee table and glares at it. "Why ten minutes?"

Then she picks up her phone and marches into the office. She has research to do.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, leave a little love below.


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